


My Dearest

by DarkAngelBK201



Category: Magi - Fandom, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Magical Accidents, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4780529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAngelBK201/pseuds/DarkAngelBK201
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When one of Yamuraiha’s ‘brilliant’ potions goes very wrong, a few of the generals (and the general population of Sindria) start lusting after Sinbad. All the while, a nearby country's princess is arriving for diplomatic negotiations. Between the stress and the jealousy, the fallout from this potion may prove to be more than Sinbad and Ja'far can take. </p>
<p>Gift fic for murphy-stoffelis/Verti</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Verti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verti/gifts).



> ANOTHER MULTICHAPTER SINJA FIC *GASP*
> 
> No, not the sequel to AoS, that's coming sometime soon. I'm letting the idea solidify in my head a bit more. 
> 
> So for starters, if anybody follows me on tumblr, then you know about my infamous string of headcanons about the SinJa fanclub, which for those who aren't on tumblr, is a club, consisting of the eight generals, sans Ja'far, the main trio, and Hakuryuu. (keep in mind this is around the Zagan arc) This club exists for one purpose: to get Sinbad and Ja'far together. And their schemes get them into some crazy shit, one of such scenarios is the fic you're currently reading right now. I highly recommend you look into it! There's even a tumblr just for the headcanons: sinjafanclub.tumblr.com. 
> 
> All that being said, this will not be a happy fic. Not at all. (when do I ever write happy fics?) Don't judge what the fic will be like from this chapter, trust me on that. So you best buckle up and get ready for a wild ride. ^.^
> 
> (Also this idea was originally murphy-stoffelis' so if you're in pain, blame her. :) She goes by Verti on here. hehe)

“So, uh, what did you say this was again, Yamu?” Pisti asked, her head cocked slightly to the side as she inspected the pink, slightly bubbling substance in the round flask. It had been set in the middle of the table in Yamuraiha’s office, cautiously so, but in such a way that had dragged everyone’s attention to it. Sharrkan was right beside Pisti, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Spartos eyed the liquid from his spot against the wall, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. Unfortunately, these were the only club members who were able to make it in such short notice.

“I told you,” Yamuraiha huffed from behind the flask, her arms crossed over her chest. Blue hair stuck out messily from her normally neat style, evidence of raking fingers and hovering over humid air seen plainly in the frizz. Her lips were pulled down into a frown, blue eyes dancing brightly despite her pout. “It’s a love potion of my own design. It’s almost guaranteed to make someone fall in love!”

“Are you sure about that?” Sharrkan asked dryly, propping his head up on his palm. “I mean the last time you said that something was guaranteed to work, you nearly blew up half of the palace.” She shot him a glare, eyes narrowing threateningly. Eyes slipping shut, he shrugged nonchalantly.

“This one will work!” Pausing, she took a breath, forcing the smile back onto her features. “And we’re going to use it on Sinbad and Ja’far. You know, to ease the process!” Pisti’s gaze brightened, jerking back upright with a loud clap of her hands. A wide grin split across her features, a devious tilt to her expression.

“Oh, this is perfect! Thank you so much, Yamu!” she exclaimed. She bounced on her heels, excitement mounting when her gaze fell back onto the potion.

“We won’t be poisoning King Sinbad by giving this to him, will we?” Spartos shot in, concern steeling his tone. The excitement in the room settled, the question completely valid and more than a little worrisome. Yamuraiha shook her head, pausing momentarily in thought. That pause wasn’t exactly a good sign. Spartos sighed, lifting a hand to press against his face.

“I’m certain that this brew is completely harmless.” Her voice was hesitant, her mind flying through the calculations and ingredients that had gone into the potion. There hadn’t been anything dangerous…had there?

“And, uh, how exactly certain are you?” Sharrkan questioned, opening a single eye to glance up at the magician. Yamuraiha chewed absently on her bottom lip, her distracted gaze flicking quickly through the air.

“About ninety percent certain.” A collective groan rolled through the room, Spartos burying his face into his palm. “Ok, listen. This will work, because I designed the brew to be specific and only work on its intended targets, which in this particular potion’s case will be Sinbad and Ja’far. It will only work on them, and no one else. No one will get hurt.” She glanced quickly around the room, her grip tightening around her forearms. “The slight risk is worth the reward. You just have to trust me.”

“Yea, because that’s worked so well before…” Sharrkan muttered, rolling his eyes. He yelped when a wooden staff connected hard with the top of his head, the dull thunk causing everyone to wince in sympathy. He toppled from his chair, rubbing at the aching bump that was already forming. “Do you want a piece of me, _magician_?!” Yamuraiha scowled at him, the distinct feel of her magoi already beginning to swell in the room.

“Could you two stop flirting for a few minutes?” Pisti interjected, amusement filling her tone. The magic drained away when Yamuraiha lowered her staff, Sharrkan looking away with a low grumble. “There are more important things to be discussing here! Like how are we supposed to get this to Sinbad?!”

“I’m a little more concerned with how this potion is supposed to work…” Spartos murmured, a concerned frown slashing across his face. Something about this whole idea just didn’t seem right to him.

“Well,” Yamuraiha started, her gaze dropping back down to the flask. “One of the intended targets ingests the potion and whoever ingests it will then give off specific magoi waves that will attract the other target.”

“And just how did you get it to be so specific?” Her finger rose into the air, an air of confidence falling over her with that single movement.

“Magoi identifiers!” Blank stares met her exclamation, each general that had gathered to the room blinking dumbly up at her. She sighed, her shoulders slumping at the lack of response. “I suppose I should explain. Everbody’s magoi is different, usually by only a small amount, but still different enough to be significant. And due to this difference, it is possible to identify a person by their magoi only. It is also possible to gain identifiers, meaning rukh that have been altered to emulate a person’s magoi, and use them to track that person. Because I used identifiers in this particular potion, both the person who ingests the brew and the person whose identifers I have used will be effected by its magic.”

“Because the waves you mentioned earlier are attracted to the person whose identifier you used!” Pisti concluded with a wide smile. There was an ecstatic tickle in her voice, matching the bright gleam to her eyes. “This is brilliant, Yamu!” Yamuraiha smiled, a light blush brushing across her cheeks.

“Well, it did take a bit of work to master. Ja’far’s identifier gave me a little trouble. His magoi has the uncanny ability to blend…”

“You did amazing, Yamu! Don’t be shy about it!” Yamuraiha’s blush deepened, the flush darkening to a bright red. Pisti turned towards the rest of the group, her hands resting dramatically on her hips. “Now, how are we going to get this into King Sinbad?”

**MLMMLM**

Yamuraiha walked calmly through the halls, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. A steaming cup of tea was resting in her hands, the cup sitting neatly on the saucer below. The tingle of porcelain meeting accented her movements, though she was very careful not to let the contents of the cup spill. Her pace was slow, her mind hyperaware of the tea. All of this had to get to Sinbad. She would not fail. Pisti had trusted her. Daylight streamed into the halls from the open windows, a light breeze cooling the temperature of the palace.

As she neared Sinbad’s office, Ja’far, holding several scrolls, stepped out of it, an annoyed scowl creasing his face. Irritation burned in his gaze, the grip around the objects in his hand stronger than it should have been. He heaved a lengthy sigh before storming off, stepping away just as Yamuraiha approached. She bowed her head in respect, her fingers curling tighter around the tea. Ja’far raised an eyebrow, a faint hint of suspicion flashing through his eyes before fading away. He nodded politely to her, continuing his walk towards his own office.

Breathing out a sigh, Yamuraiha lifted a hand to knock on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Bright early morning light spilled into Sinbad’s room through the small slit in the otherwise closed curtains, the ray falling directly across his closed eyes. His eyelids twitched once and cracked open, his nose crinkling. The sun shone directly across his golden irises, his pupils constricting uncomfortably at the sudden change. A low groan lurched from his throat, his eyes squeezing shut once more at the dull headache that throbbed just under his temples. So, with a sleepy mumble, he turned over heavily, messy locks of purple hair tangling beneath him at the movements. His arms dug underneath the down pillow as he pressed his face into it, nearly moaning in delight at the cool press of the thin cotton. The darkness surrounded him once more, the faint headache fading. He smiled to himself, turning his face further into the pillow. He could probably catch another hour or so.

Someone cleared their throat, the sound rough in the otherwise silent room.

Sinbad stiffened, recognizing that noise for what it was. Slowly, very slowly, he reopened his eyes, his vision instantly flooded with the familiar cream and emerald robes that most members of his palace staff wore. Peering through his eyelashes, he glanced upward, dread turning his stomach to lead. Irritated onyx eyes glared down at him, accenting the tight scowl that twisted at the man’s lips. Pale locks of silver hair poked out from underneath his keffiyeh, immaculately placed as always. Freckles speckled his cheeks, splashing over the bridge of his nose that was crinkled in anger. Releasing a breath, Sinbad just groaned again and shoved his face back into the pillow.

Hands grabbed at his shoulders, the calloused touch rough against his skin. “Sin,” Ja’far growled, frustration seeping into his voice. “Sin, it’s time to get up. It’s not my fault you’re hung over.” Sin only responded with a groan, not moving despite Ja’far’s insistent shaking. His hands held fast to his sheets, unwilling to emerge from his dark, warm cocoon just yet. “C’mon, Sin!”

“’m not hungover,” Sinbad mumbled into his pillow, allowing his eyes to slip open once more. The golden hue of his gaze gleamed in the faint sunlight, peering up sleepily from between the slit between his eyelids. Ja’far grunted his disbelief, continuing to pull at his king’s shoulders in an attempt to get him up. “C’mon, Ja’far…” A moan brushed against his tone, weaving through his words. “Can’t I sleep in just once?”

“Do we have to go over this again, Sin? You’re the king and kings cannot have a day off. Or sleep in. Get that through your thick skul-” Ja’far broke off with a startled yelp, Sin grabbing at one of his hands and pulling on it harshly. Off balance, he toppled forward onto the bed, where the king made quick work of wrapping his arms around the smaller form. Sin rested his chin on the top of Ja’far’s head, a grin pulling at his lips. He exhaled slowly, his arms curling tighter around Ja’far.

“Mmmm. I like this better than working all day. Can we do this instead?” His words spoken in a throaty murmur, the gentle rumbling of Sin’s chest sending goosebumps prickling across Ja’far’s fair skin. A dark blush tinted his cheeks, his throat bobbing as he swallowed harshly. But as Sin’s breathing began to even out once more, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest only brought anger. Silently, he pulled one of his knives from where it was strapped against his wrists.

“Sin,” he whispered, noting the subtle jerk in surprise behind him. His voice was soft and melodic, intentionally so. “I may be willing…You just have to do a favor for me first.”

“And…And what is that?” Sin’s voice was breathy, an undercurrent of nervousness in his tone. In that second, Ja’far twisted around, snapping the blade he had grabbed earlier to his king’s throat. Wide eyes stared up at him, mild irritation flecking his expression.

“You get up and do your work,” Ja’far hissed, his voice like ice.

Sin didn’t argue after that, not with the edge of the knife biting at the skin of his throat.

**MLMMLM**

“I don’t know why you felt it was necessary to stay in the room until I dressed, Ja’far,” Sinbad grumbled, squinting slightly in the bright hallway. Maybe he was a little hungover. He probably would have been better off if he hadn’t drank that last glass the night prior. Sighing, he reached up to rub at his temples, wishing for all the world that he had a glass of water. But Ja’far was adamant that he suffer for his crimes. “It’s not like I was going to go back to sleep after all of that.” 

Ja’far walked silently at his side, a pleased look gracing his features. A small smile clung to his lips, his eyes glittering. “Mmm, I’m sure, Sin. And the moment I stepped out you would have fallen right back into bed. You can’t fool me,” he mused, glancing quickly to the side at his king. Sin pouted, his bottom lip jutting out defiantly against Ja’far’s words. “So yes, my presence was indeed needed in order to ensure your prompt arrival this morning to the meeting.”

“You just wanted to see me naked.” Ja’far rolled his eyes, ignoring the large, and lewd, grin that stretched across Sinbad’s face. He didn’t bother responding. Anything he said in his defense would just be twisted around to fit Sin’s ridiculous reasoning; it was better he stay silent. “What is this oh-so important meeting I need to attend anyway?” Ja’far huffed, stopping and turning on his heel to glare at the man next to him.

“Do you ever pay any attention? I explained everything yesterday!” Sin blinked, cocking his head to the side.

“You did?” Ja’far nearly growled, his cheeks soon flushed with anger. His mouth dropped open, furious words already building in his throat, when Yamuraiha stepped in front of Sinbad, a light blush brushed across her delicate cheeks. She toyed with the wooden staff in her hands, rolling it back and forth within her grasp. Her eyes flicked up to Sinbad’s face and quickly darted to the floor, the scarlet glow soon encompassing the entirety of her face. Sinbad raised an eyebrow, expression twisting in confusion. Though he was glad that someone distracted his advisor prior to the angry explosion. Very glad.

“Yamuriaha. Can I help you with something?” he questioned quietly. She looked back up at him, her blue eyes locking with his gold. Her lips parted, her tongue swiping over them quickly. “Yamuriaha?”

“I…um. Your hair looks very nice, your majesty. You should wear it long more often. I would appreciate it at least,” she blurted, her face a burning crimson. She stared up at Sinbad, a little mortified at her own words. Silence dropped over the hallway, all motion stilling at her words.

“Uh…thank you?” She jerked at the sound of his voice, her grip tightening around her staff. Without another word, she rushed away, her face buried in her hands. Sin only stared at her as she left, one of his hands drifting up to comb through his thick hair. “Huh. I forgot to tie it back this morning.” Shrugging, he raised an eyebrow at Ja’far, who stared at him in disbelief.

“That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“That was a little weird. Perhaps we should advise her to stay away from her experiments for a little while.” Ja’far nodded, shaking his head slightly. Hoping that was the last weird encounter for the day, he turned and resumed walking, listening for the steady footsteps of his king beside him.

Yamuriaha had only been the first as it turned out.

Sin surprisingly didn’t notice the appreciating stares whenever he walked past a royal guard, or a member of his staff. But Ja’far most certainly did. His irritation was slowly growing, boiling deep down inside him. If he didn’t find out what was going on and soon, there would be hell to pay. But he kept a pleasant expression, smiling at each person they passed en route to the meeting.

A sharp piercing whistle broke through the tense silence, pitched high and dropping low in a lecherous manner. Ja’far’s gaze jumped instantly to the two forms leaning up against the wall by the entrance to the conference room, his onyx eyes blazing. “Looking good there, Your Majesty! But you’d look better on my bed,” Sharrkan called, narrowed green eyes raking up and down Sinbad’s form. Ja’far just froze, as did Sinbad next to him, their expressions slack with shock. Sinbad was the first to break though, laughter shaking his shoulders. “Eh, don’t you agree, Spartos?” At that, Sharrkan nudged the man next to him, Spartos ducking his head in embarrassment, a bright flush darkening his features.

“I suppose it could be agreeable…Even if it is against my religious codes,” he mumbled. Sharrkan laughed, elbowing Spartos again.

“Maybe we could make it a threesome! What do you say, King Sinbad?” Sinbad only laughed harder, clutching at his stomach. Only Ja’far noticed that they were being serious, his eyes narrowed to slits. Whatever was going on here, he would put a stop to it.

Suddenly, Sinbad yelped, jumping slightly as a hand closed tightly around the globe of his ass. “Mmm,” Pisti hummed appreciatively, trotting around Sin to his front. “Nice and firm. Gotta say I’m not disappointed there, my king.” Her voice was a purr, her eyes gleaming. Sin’s eyes widened, taking a step back to avoid her leaning forward. “Can we make this a foursome?”

“I know you all have work that you should be doing!” Ja’far snapped, finally fed up with whatever was going on. “I suggest you get to it before I assign you more! Now, go!” Ignoring their sudden complaints, Ja’far grabbed Sin’s arm, his grip tight as he pulled him towards the conference room. He forced Sinbad through before rushing in himself, closing the door to the rising protests.

“You’re such a cockblock, Ja’far!” Pisti’s cry echoed through the thick door, her fist thudding quietly against its surface. Ja’far stared at the door with a furrowed brow, a perplexed look flashing across his features. Behind him, even Sin look a little alarmed.

Just what the hell was going on here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get interesting (and kinky) eh? 
> 
> Next Friday will be the next update!


	3. Chapter 3

Ja’far sighed and turned around, running a calloused palm over his face. He rubbed briefly at his eyes, wondering silently if the entire palace had gone insane overnight. When he lowered his hand, Sin rose an eyebrow, looking a little flustered himself. “What the hell was that about?” he asked quietly, resting his hands heavily onto his hips. Ja’far shook his head, glancing back towards the closed door. The thudding of fists had finally quieted, the room blanketed in silence once more.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Sin,” he responded wearily. “Everything appeared to be normal this morning…It’s only after I woke you that people started acting…strange.”

“Is it a prank? Or some sort of scheme of that particular group?” Ja’far brought his hand to his chin in thought, his gaze dropping off to the side.

“I…don’t think so… Usually we get some sort of prior warning when one of their plans begins…”

“What plan are we talking about here?” a new voice interjected from behind Sin, two large forms stepping closer to the pair. Hinahoho smiled down at them, amber eyes glinting in amusement. Drakon stood directly to his right, arms crossed tightly across his chest. Ja’far blinked in shock, ignoring that burst of fear that suddenly flared in his chest. Surely they wouldn’t….

“Please don’t try to flirt with him too…” he groaned, heaving an exhausted sigh. He was already fatigued by all of this and it had only been about fifteen minutes since he had woken Sin. Drakon tilted his head to the side slightly, his eyes dark with confusion.

“What are you referring to, Ja’far? Neither me nor Hinahoho have any intention of flirting with King Sinbad,” he said, his rumbling voice echoing greatly in the quiet. Hinahoho laughed, slapping Sin on the back.

“No offense, Sinbad. You’re just not my type,” he joked, peals of laughter following his statement. Sin pouted, a frown pulling at his lips. Ja’far rolled his eyes, a perplexed scowl slashing across his features. It came to some relief that both Hinahoho and Drakon seemed to be unaffected by whatever was occurring, but it still didn’t help solve the issue at hand. “But, Ja’far, what  _are_  you talking about?”

“It seems that everyone from the…club, as well as a majority of the palace staff, has been, for some reason, attempting to flirt with or sleep with Sin. Do you two know anything about this?” Hinahoho sighed, rolling his head back on his shoulders. Drakon lifted a hand to press against his temple, a look of mild irritation briefly crossing his features.

“Well, I suppose that means that Yamuriaha’s potion didn’t work as she expected it to…” Drakon muttered, mostly to himself. Hinahoho hummed in agreement. Ja’far aimed a sharp glare at the pair, his patience growing thin. Not like he’d had a lot of it to begin with today.

“Explain. Now.”

“Yamuriaha created this potion that was  _supposed_  to make you and Sinbad fall in love, you know, one of their usual plans,” Hinahoho explained, a serious gleam entering his gaze. His lips twisted into a frown, his own arms crossing across his broad chest.

“Let me guess…” Sin shot in, stepping to the side while running a quick hand through his hair. “As usual, their plan went wrong in a spectacular fashion.” Hinahoho nodded, inclining his head towards his king. “How wrong are we talking here…?” The question hovered momentarily in the air, an uncomfortable silence stretching between the small group. Ja’far shifted restlessly, dread dropping heavily into his gut.

“…the potion was created in a way that was only supposed to effect Ja’far…Sin is currently giving off these magoi waves that attract every person he comes in contact with, even a passing glance. I’m guessing that something went wrong with the specificity of the potion if it’s effecting everyone.”

“…And why didn’t you tell us of this plan the moment you heard of it?” Ja’far demanded, his voice eerily calm and as sharp as steel.

“It was already in action the moment we were told of its existence. We were unfortunately unable to make it to the emergency meeting. So we were told after the potion had already been delivered,” Drakon responded, minor traces of regret lacing his voice. Ja’far exhaled slowly, rubbing his fingers roughly against his forehead. A headache was beginning to pound just beneath his touch. How exactly were they supposed to manage this fiasco?

“And what makes the two of you unaffected by whatever waves I’m giving off?” Sin asked, golden eyes trained on both Drakon and Hinahoho. Ja’far froze, his eyes widening. That thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Hinahoho and Drakon glanced at each other, shrugging slightly.

“Frankly, your majesty, we’re just not interested in you,” Hinahoho said, a wry smile stretching across his face. “At least, not in that respect. We  _are_  both married.” He swallowed harshly at that last statement, his grin faltering slightly. Drakon nodded in agreement, his eyes slipping shut briefly. Sin stared at the two of them, his lips twisting in thought.

“So…perhaps you two are unaffected because you have strong attachments to other people. An attachment that cannot be so easily broken.” At that logic, Ja’far sucked in a silent breath, his wide eyes fixed on his king. When Sin glanced at him, his gaze skirted away, dropping instead to the floor. He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting against what Sin’s realization meant. A deep scowl carved its way across his expression, his gaze darkening. He himself had known for a while…But he couldn’t say anything…It just wasn’t right. Not for Sin. His hands curled into tight fists underneath his sleeves, his muscles biting into the wires that were wrapped around his arms.

Sin noticed as Ja’far looked away, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. A nagging suspicion bit at his thoughts, but he forced it back. It just couldn’t be so. He wouldn’t believe it. Just as the suspicion faded, another thought jerked its way to the front of his consciousness, forcing away all else. The color drained from his face. “Oh, shit…” he groaned, burying his head in his palms.

“What is it, my king?” Drakon asked, the only one who noticed the sudden curse. Hinahoho was staring at Ja’far with interest, a secretive grin creeping across his face. Sin dropped his hands, leveling an irritated stare at the group.

“The diplomatic visit from the Perusccia Empire. Their princess is due to arrive tomorrow.” That went over like a ton of bricks. Ja’far blinked, his eyes going wide. How had he forgotten? The group was frozen in place, wide stares jumping from one person to the next.

“What are we going to do?” Hinahoho asked in a whisper, shifting nervously. Ja’far sighed heavily, pulling his keffiyeh from his head so he could run his fingers quickly though his hair.

“There’s only one thing we  _can_  do, seeing as Yamuriaha is currently indisposed. We’ll have to wait it out and see if the effects fade with time,” he said tersely, pulling the headpiece once more over his hair. Silver bangs fell messily into his eyes, an annoyance he quickly swept to the side.

“And what if the princess if effected by the magic?” Drakon asked. Ja’far’s jaw clenched, his lips parting slightly to bare his teeth.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there… For now, this is the only thing we can do.” His onyx eyes snapped quickly to Sin, jumping away just as fast. “We’re also going to keep a constant guard on Sin at all times. I’m not sure who else can be trusted, so, at least for now, the three of us will have to take shifts watching him. Until this matter is solved, this is our only path…”

Sin just gazed at Ja’far with a raised brow, trying to put his finger on just what was bothering his advisor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been lazy in posting my stories recently. But I've got two other fics I need to upload onto here. Expect them tomorrow sometime!
> 
> (Also, don't drink and write kids. Or it takes you twice the time to write a chapter)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY ON THIS! I HAD A REALLY ROUGH WEEK SO I COULDN'T WRITE THIS ON FRIDAY LIKE I NORMALLY DO! BUT HERE IT IS! AND IT HAS THE BEGINNINGS OF THE ANGST I PROMISED AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS FIC!

Sinbad glanced up as his door creaked open, his golden eyes glazed with boredom at the scroll unrolled before him. His head was propped up by one of his hands, chin tucked neatly into his palm. A pen was in his free hand, rolling absently between his fingers as he read the paper on his desk. Ja’far closed the door behind him, not relaxing until it clicked shut. Sin grinned as he turned, noting the tension ease from his advisor’s shoulders. “Your turn to watch me, huh?” he asked, meeting Ja’far’s gaze.

Ja’far smiled, walking up to Sin’s desk. He brought his hands out together in front of him, bowing politely before his king. “Reporting for duty as a member of your protection detail, your majesty,” he said, his onyx eyes twinkling behind his hands. Sin’s grin only widened. He leaned back in his chair, listening to the creak of its joints, and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Do you think you can handle the job? After all, it is the king you are protecting.” Ja’far rolled his eyes, hiding his smile behind his clasped hands.

“I think I can manage.” Sinbad laughed, sitting forward once more. Ja’far took the seat in front of the desk, plucking one of the unfinished scrolls from the pile on its surface. For a few minutes, there was silence, Ja’far’s eyes raking over the scroll’s contents as Sin continued work on the one already out. “How many of these have you done, Sin?” Golden eyes flicked up to Ja’far, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

“Uh…A few?” Ja’far raised an eyebrow, blinking slowly at Sinbad.

“Define ‘a few’, Sin.” Sinbad just coughed, his gaze skirting away from the growing irritation on Ja’far’s face. Truth be told, this was the first one he’d actually worked on today, but he wasn’t about to tell Ja’far that. He didn’t really feel like dying today. “Sin…” There was an undercurrent of warning in his voice, a low growl rumbling just beneath. But he let the subject drop, thankfully. After all, there was a lot going on currently.

“Has it been quiet outside?” Sin questioned, finally marking the scroll with his signature. He sat back, stretching his arms up towards the ceiling. Ja’far nodded absently, eyes still glued to the document in his already ink-stained hands.

“With you out of sight, everything’s been normal. Though I did have to order Pisti away from the palace after catching her trying to sneak off to your office more than once. Other than that, nothing’s happened. Something to be thankful for, I suppose.” Finally finished with the scroll, he placed it gently on the desk in front of him, looking up. “How goes the preparations for the negotiations tomorrow?” Sin shrugged, sighing.

“I’ve gone through the introductory letter from Perussica several times. I think I have a basis for what they want from us in a treaty, though I’ll have to review the budget first before making any final decisions.” Ja’far nodded, but said nothing, sliding the scroll he had been reviewing in front of Sin for signing before taking another one from the pile. Sin sighed, shaking his head slightly, before setting to work once more. He supposed he was glad that Ja’far was here helping him, even if only was to make sure that no one got in to make true on their promises of ‘love’. He paused suddenly, a slight frown slipping across his features. His hazel eyes darkened, his grip tightening around his writing utensil.

“Hey, Ja’far. Why isn’t the potion affecting you like it is everyone else?” Ja’far stiffened, his hands tightening around the thin paper in his hands, crinkling it noticeably. He said nothing, swallowing harshly, and attempted to force himself to relax. Sinbad’s frown deepened, the skin between his eyebrows crumpling. His tongue flicked out briefly to wet his suddenly dry lips, drawing in a deep breath. “Do…Do you have a secret lover?”

Ja’far didn’t look up, his onyx eyes glued to the paperwork in front of him. He wasn’t reading, the lack of movement giving that away, but he wouldn’t meet Sinbad’s piercing gaze. Sinbad felt fear trickle down his spine to settle heavily in his stomach, shooting ice through every one of his nerves. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, sweat dotting his forehead. “Ja’far?” Ja’far sighed, smoothing the scroll out onto the surface of the desk.

“No, nothing like that… I’m just…too busy with work,” he said slowly, something dark flickering behind his eyes. Sinbad only stared back at him, his throat bobbing as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. The suspicion that had been flecking his thoughts earlier returned, stronger than before. It just couldn’t be possible, could it? Ja’far having a lover? He chewed at the inside of his cheek, hands curling into tight fists on the desk.

That thought hurt much more than it probably should.

The darkness slipped away from Ja’far’s expression, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Sin? Are you alright?” Sin stared back at him for several long moments, the words barely registering in his panicked thoughts. Why should it bother him that Ja’far had a lover? It wasn’t like he controlled every aspect of his life. If having someone else made Ja’far happy, who was he to say anything? He tried to ignore the throbbing pain that lanced through his heart at that thought, sucking in a deep breath. 

“Yea…” he responded faintly. “I’m fine, Ja’far.”

Ja’far’s gaze lingered on his king, Sin’s eyes dropping back down to his desk. Sinbad grabbed his pen once more, his teeth closing around his bottom lip. He pulled absently at the frail skin, twisting and twirling the thin writing instrument between the pads of his fingers. Ja’far continued staring, his lips twisted in thought. But he said nothing else on the matter, knowing for a fact that Sin wouldn’t answer, even if Ja’far tried to force his hand.

But the unsteady silence in the room was unnerving, Ja’far’s skin prickling with unease.

He just wondered what he had said that was wrong.


	5. Chapter 5

Sinbad took a deep breath as he stepped out from his palace for the first time in at least a day, placing his hands firmly on his hips. His guard fanned out around him, Ja’far taking the lead, his mouth a determined slash across his face. Already people were drifting this way, whether drawn by the events or by the effects of the potion, nobody was sure, but they were on the defensive just in case. Even so, Sinbad just smiled, and lifted his chin, striding confidently forward as they made their way to the docks. The sky was a crystal blue, puffy clouds drifting idly by in the gentle breeze. The air was hot, the bright sun beating down on the crowds below.

A typical day in Sindria.

What better way to greet a foreign princess than with a day such as this?

So despite the catcalls that followed him as he walked, some of which were met with a quick smile and a muffled laugh, he held his head high. He had a good feeling about this princess. She would be good for this country, he knew that for certain. Ja’far snapped orders out in front of him, his cheeks flushed slightly in the heat. His weapons were still tucked away, but that was a good thing, probably. People ducked away at his stare, slipping from the king’s path without even glancing in Sinbad’s direction. Onyx eyes were heated in a glare, eyebrows pulled together in a stern expression.

“It’s a good thing that Ja’far’s with us, eh?” Hinahoho mused from his spot beside Sinbad, a bemused smile stretching slowly across his face. Sinbad glanced up at him, before resuming to stare at his advisor. Ja’far was talking with Masrur, hands tucked into his sleeves. That was another good sign. Masrur seemed to be unaffected by the potion’s effects, barely glancing at Sinbad as he moved towards his ordered post. Only Hinahoho caught the sly peak at Sin’s ass as Masrur passed, quickly hiding his smile with a cough. Ja’far’s eyes flicked back towards his king, his lips tightening before he turned to continue leading the group through Sindria.

No, it wasn’t good that Ja’far was with them.

Because that meant that he had a strong attachment.

And Sin didn’t know who, but it wasn’t him.

Sinbad’s hands curled into fists, his jaw clenching. He kept his eyes trained on the cobblestone street, feeling Hinahoho’s amber eyes fixed upon him. Not wanting to answer questions, he allowed his gaze to drift back up to the area in front of him, his teeth closing in on the inside of his cheek. “Yea,” he eventually answered, finally breaking the lengthy pause. “I suppose you’re right.” Even if the thought sent a sharp pain shooting through his chest. Hinahoho hummed in response, shaking his head briefly.

By the time they reached the docks, no less than twenty citizens had attempted to breach Sinbad’s guard, a sultry suggestion on their tongue. They were quickly detained by Sinbad’s remaining generals, forced back into the crowd of unaffected citizens. The amount of unaffected well outweighed the amount that were affected, something that came to some relief. At least his  _entire_  country wasn’t out to jump his bones…

Multiple boats were secured to the docks, most of them Sindrian Trade Vessels, rich in merchandise and people. But there was one, moored near the end, which was far taller than any of the merchant ships, a foreign flag flapping high above. The banner was set in a deep sapphire cloth, gold stitching marking out the Perussican emblem. Sinbad approached the exit ramp, watching as guards, donned in silver uniforms, exited the vessel.

A woman appeared on the top of the ramp, walking elegantly forward with her chin lifted. A gown, as brilliant a sapphire as her country banner, clung to her body, her skirts loosely draped about her legs. Her skin shone a pearly white, a color that likely would not fare well in the bright Sindrian sun. Blond hair was coiled up against her head, beads pinning the thick curls back into a neat bun. Though strands of it tumbled down the back of her neck, others framed her face. A small tiara was tucked into her hair, the silver shimmering in the sun. She smiled faintly, painted lips parting to reveal white teeth, and the skin around her eyes crinkled around bright blue eyes.

As she stepped down from the ramp, Sinbad offered her a hand, a charming smile slipping easily across his features. “Princess Zobeida of Perussica, I presume?” he greeted, inclining his head. She stared up at him, a faint blush dusting across her cheeks as the soft skin of her palm met his.

“King Sinbad,” she responded, her voice pleasingly melodic, instantly taking in the ornate headdress that sat upon his thick mane of purple hair. Her head also dipped, in both greeting and respect, and she eased her hand from his in order to grasp at her dress. “It is an honor to have been invited to your country.” Golden eyes twinkling, Sinbad lowered his hand.

“The honor is all mine, Princess. I hope you will enjoy your stay here.”

“I am sure I will, your majesty.”

Ja’far watched the exchange from just behind Sin, his expression carefully cleaned of all emotion. Sin was flirting, as usual. But Princess Zobeida seemed to be responding, as all women tended to do. His mouth twitched, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallowed. His hands gripped tightly at each other within the confines of his sleeves, dulled fingernails digging into his own skin, the sharp pain enough to keep him calm. A pang of jealously flashed through him when bright blue eyes scanned through the crowd, a face that could have been painted onto a doll etched with amazement.

But it wasn’t his place to do anything, other than smile and nod at her. Even if his smile felt wooden on his face, despite his best efforts. So he let his hands relax and forced all emotions away, a professional smile finally forming more realistically on his face. She nodded back at him, turning to face Sin once more. And Sin was practically seducing her with his eyes, his voice low and smooth. The jealousy spread once more, dropping heavily into his stomach.

It wasn’t his place to feel this way.

After all, she would be perfect for him…


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, Murphy (Verti) bribed me with art if I would write the next chapter this weekend. 
> 
> And I did.
> 
> AND NOW EVERYONE GETS THE NEXT CHAPTER EARLY!

Ja’far glanced up at the night sky, the twinkling stars shining brightly above him, and breathed in deeply, dropping his hands from their clasped spot in front of him. The cool air tasted bitter on his tongue, the brisk scent of early autumn air filling his nose. Goosebumps peppered his skin, his body still used to the intense heat of midday. It would be a while yet until he grew used to the cold once more. Until then, he just had to deal with the temperature.

He continued walking, his footsteps silent, and tried to calm the flurry of thoughts that swirled around in the inside of his head. The same thoughts that had been plaguing him since the start of this mess. And as usual, they centered on Sin, which never failed to bother him. Sin had flirted with the princess, something he had done repeatedly in the past, especially during diplomatic talks. Normally, it didn’t bother Ja’far much, but this…No this was different. Maybe it was because of the potion, maybe not, but Ja’far had recently noticed a change.

But this change was something that he wasn’t allowed to feel. Not in regards to his king.

Swallowing harshly, his hands curled into tight fists by his sides, the thin material of his sleeves covering them easily. His jaw clenched, onyx eyes barely glancing at the path he was taking. He’d walked these streets so often, he could travel blindfolded and still manage to reach his destination. Not like he actually had a destination today. No, he’d just needed a break. From Sin and the oh so beautiful Princess Zobeida as they talked animatedly about practically everything. The problem was that he couldn’t find a viable excuse for his hatred of the princess. She was pretty, kind, and intelligent. Maybe that was part of the problem.

She was perfect for Sinbad.

And maybe that’s  _exactly_  what killed Ja’far so much.

But no, he wasn’t permitted to feel like this. He was Sinbad’s advisor for Solomon’s sake, he just couldn’t. A grimace twisted his expression, troubled eyes dropping down to the ground. With a heavy sigh, he allowed his eyes to slip shut, relaxing into the repetitive jostling of his steps, and let his mind drift and empty of thoughts. He needed to get himself back in control and this was the best way to do it.

A sharp whistle sliced through the silence, the distinct fluttering of wings startling him from his trance. His eyes snapped open and he jumped back, a bird the color of moonlight grazing the front of his robes before flying away. A scowl pulling at his lips, he quickly released his weapons from where they were strapped, a strange calm falling over him when his hands curled around the cold metal hilts of his blades. Warmth flowered along the scrape, oozing scarlet blood staining the front of his shirt. But he paid it no mind. The injury was far from fatal after all.

His eyes flicked around the shadowed street, shuffling backwards so his back was against a wall. A small form glowed in the moonlight, white feathers weaved expertly into her blond hair. A pair of dark brown eyes gleamed at him, a smile stretched across her face. Her arm was outstretched, the bird landing obediently on its assigned position. The pink cloth of her clothes flapped gently against her chest in the breeze, the Sindrian robes draped along her shoulders. Something about her expression was unsettling. Ja’far’s weapons were still held at the ready, his body tense and ready for battle.

“Pisti?” he asked hesitantly, his eyebrows crunching together in confusion. Her grin only widened, her eyes narrowing. Suddenly, more people appeared behind her, though Ja’far only recognized a few. His eyes widened when Sharrkan stepped out beside Pisti, his sword clutched loosely in his hand. Yamuraiha took to her other side, her wooden staff propped up on her shoulder. Something was wrong. Very wrong. His hands tightened further around his knives, fingernails digging into his palms. “What’s going on here?”

“Whatever could you be talking about, Ja’far?” Pisti chimed, her head cocking innocently to the side. “Nothing’s going on.” Ja’far moved to take a step forward, a startled yelp leaving his lips as his knee crumpled nerveless beneath his weight. It collided harshly with the cobblestones, pain arching up his leg as skin scraped away on the rough stone. “Yet.” The word drifted softly in the wind, his heart thudding harshly in his chest at the mere sound.

Footsteps increased in intensity as the group approached, wide onyx eyes staring at them. His body wouldn’t obey his commands, numb fingers uncurling around his weapons with each passing moment. They clattered to the ground, red wires trailing obediently behind them. His other knee quickly followed the first, slamming harshly down beside his other leg. “What did you do to me?” Pisti, now directly before him, smirked, bringing her bird out in front of her. Her finger stroked at its head, trailing down the smooth feathers down to its talons. Ja’far’s breath froze in his throat, instantly noticing the slight glimmer to the normally dull coloring, his hand reaching up slowly, trembling as he strained to even achieve that movement, to cup the thin cut that slashed across his chest.

“Paralysis potion,” Yamuriaha supplied, a slender finger tapping against her staff. She fidgeted slightly when his eyes flicked to hers, her throat bobbing when she swallowed. Ice trickled down Ja’far’s spine, his breathing accelerating. In seconds, his thoughts were assaulted with memories that were best left forgotten, blood draining from his face.

_Terror gripped his heart, his body laid out on the table. He was unable to move, unable to function. And that’s what scared him the most. He couldn’t defend himself._

_When the knives came out, his eyes widened, tears burning at his eyes. He couldn’t even squirm away as they parted his legs._

_Metallic blood splashed through the air, agony coursing through every one of his nerves._

_The scream that burst from his lips tore his throat in seconds._

He shook his head to clear his mind of such thoughts, unable to quick get a grasp on the surge of fear that burst through his body. Even occurring as long ago as it did, the memory still affected him today. Which was not a good thing in the current moment…at all. Sucking in a deep breath, he snapped his gaze back to the group, a little relieved that he at least had that much movement left. “What do you want?” His voice was cold, anger evident in the growl of his words.

“Why are you defending King Sinbad from us?” Pisti demanded, her grin replaced quickly by a scowl. Her free hand was fisted, fury flickering in her dark eyes. Ja’far blinked, his jaw slackening in shock. What? Were they being serious? “There is no reason to defend him. We don’t want to hurt him. So why?” The people behind her nodded, identical scowls slashing across each of their faces. The potion’s effects were still that strong? That thought alone was terrifying.

“I’m defending him because he has no business fraternizing with his staff,” Ja’far answered. He knelt there and glared at them momentarily, barely even faltering when both legs gave out from under him, sending him straight onto his ass. He barely winced, his expression unchanging as he stares down the group before him. “You need no other explanation than that. So cease and desist before I call the guard.” Pisti grinned, a thin expression that stretched across her face with an eerie slowness.

“You mean them?” she asked, gesturing to a few men behind her, both gripping spears. “I don’t think that they’ll be interfering any.” She stepped closer, her head held high. “So you answer my question, Ja’far. Why are you defending King Sinbad?” Ja’far’s eyes narrowed, fear still coursing through his veins.

“I’ve already given my answer, Pisti.” Pisti sighed, glancing over to two of the guards that stood at her back. They nodded, hands curling tighter around their spears. Moving towards him, Ja’far could only watch as they shoved him onto his side, slamming the tail ends of their weapons hard against his torso. Pain burned along his sides as ribs broke, the subtle clenching of his jaw the only thing that Ja’far could manage to stave off the agony. He remained slumped on his side when they backed off, blood spattering the ends of the spears. Bloodied bruises scraped against his abdomen, already staining his robe with bright blood. Breath whistled in and out of Ja’far’s throat, unable to even move his eyes anymore. He couldn’t move. Panic surged violently through him, his heart thudding painfully against his ribcage.

Oh Solomon.  _He couldn’t move._

Pisti knelt in front of him, cherubic face practically glowing with satisfaction. “Are you sure about that, Ja’far? Are you sure you’re just not keeping King Sinbad for yourself, you selfish monster? Everyone knows about your sick satisfaction with his majesty. It’s disgusting watching the two of you.” Ja’far couldn’t respond, continuing to stare blankly ahead. His body wasn’t responding at all. Blood rushed in his ears, roaring loudly. But even so Pisti’s words filtered through, striking deeply.

_…Disgusting._ That was true. His feelings regarding Sin were ultimately disgusting in nature. How dare he feel this way? Tears burned at his eyes, unable to even blink them back. His hands were sprawled limply out in front of him, fingers uncurled and loose. They were the only objects he could stare at, the feet surrounding him unfocused and dim.

How dare he?

A foot slammed against his arm, the heel grinding painfully against the limb. But Ja’far didn’t cry out, he couldn’t even if he’d wanted to. The limb broke with an audible crack, the agony immediately swirling up to encompass his entire being. Tears dripped down his face, slipping over the bridge of his freckled nose onto the cobblestone below. Laughter billowed above him, Pisti’s hand reaching out to lift his chin up to face her.

“He will be ours,” she hissed, her eyes narrowed.

And Sharrkan’s sword buried itself in his shoulder, a moan gurgling up from his throat. Sharrkan removed it slowly, the sharp edges carving deeper into Ja’far’s pale flesh. Blood spilled from the now open wound, drenching his white shirt a deep crimson. But he continued staring up into those malicious brown eyes, a single thought rushing through his head.

_How dare he love Sin?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT SORRY!
> 
> *RUNS AWAY*


	7. Chapter 7

“Is the princess finally in her room?”

Hinahoho’s voice greeted Sinbad as he entered his office. Sin barely paused, but nodded with a sigh and moved over to sit at his desk, running a quick hand through his hair. He was tired, that much evident through the slump in his shoulders, and he needed a drink, but he should at least get through some of the paperwork piling on his desk before attempting to sleep. Ja’far usually let things slide during diplomatic visits, something to be celebrated, however, that was no reason to fall so behind it would be hopeless to catch up. Hinahoho leaned up against the desk, his back to his king.

“How is everything going with her? I can see you’ve been using your usual techniques.”

Sin hummed at him, reaching out to grab a pen and the scroll sitting on the top of his stack. “Zobeida is an intelligent young woman. She’s not as easily wooed as you’re assuming her to be, Hinahoho,” he responded distractedly, unrolling the scroll. Did these things really need to be written in complex terms? And in so small writing? The flickering glow of the candle was hard to read by, the dancing shadows falling right across his page. “But she is devoted to her country’s cause and I expect negotiations regarding a treaty to begin tomorrow sometime.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.” Sinbad glanced up, an eyebrow raised. Hinahoho smirked down at him, his eyes narrowed suggestively. With a roll of his eyes, Sin shook his head, rolling the pen between his fingers.

“And what do you mean by that?” Hinahoho’s grin only widened.

 

“Oh nothing much. I was just wondering if you’ve bedded yet another foreign princess. You know, in case I need to prepare a getaway or something.” Golden eyes hardened into a glare, a frown slipping across Sinbad’s features. Hinahoho laughed, the roaring chuckles loud in the silent room.

“I have not, nor do I intend to ever. You know I would never endanger Sindria like that.”

“Fine, fine. But she  _would_  make a decent wife.”

“I DO NOT NEED A WIFE!” Hinahoho blinked at the exclamation, craning his head around to stare at his king in shock. Sinbad’s eyes were flinty, a deep scowl on his face. His hand was curled tight around his pen, the tip smearing ink across the blank page below it. The air around him was dense with power, his anger alerting the Djinns on his person.

“Did Ja’far take away your ability to drink again?” His body just as tense, Sin’s eyes dropped back to his desk, his jaw clenched.   
  
“If only he did…” Sin muttered, still glaring down at his own paperwork. Hinahoho’s eyebrows furrowed, the smile slipping from his features.

“What happened between you and him, Sinbad?” Sinbad huffed, finally dropping the pen and reaching up to rub at his temples. He really didn’t want to talk about this… His head ached slightly, likely caused by the length of the day. But he probably wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. “Sinbad?”

“Why don’t you ask Ja’far and his lover?!” The words left his throat in a bitter growl, his free hand curling into a fist on the desk. The room was silent, the question hanging heavily in the air. That had to be the reason that Ja’far had been distant recently. It just had to be. Why else would he not be affected by the potion’s effects? But why didn’t Ja’far tell him? Why didn’t he just say something, anything? The worst part was Sin wasn’t even entirely sure why he was so mad. He didn’t control Ja’far’s life. What, or who, Ja’far did in his spare time was up to him and no one else. Or at least, that’s what Sin was trying to convince himself of.

Hinahoho closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, allowing his head to fall backwards. “Sinbad…Ja’far doesn’t have a lover,” he stated, all humor absent from his voice. Sin’s eyes widened, his breath freezing in his throat at his general’s words. His hand dropped numbly from his head, his jaw slackening in shock. Ja’far didn’t…But then why…? That couldn’t be right.

“Are you sure?” Hinahoho nodded, his hands dropping heavily onto his hips.

“Completely sure. Ja’far pulls all-nighters at least three times a week. Where would he find the time for a lover, Sinbad, when he barely has time for himself?”

Sinbad was silent, staring up at Hinahoho with wide, startled eyes, his mind racing. He was right. Ja’far was always at the palace, diligently doing paperwork at his desk or assigning it to others. Why did he even consider Ja’far having a lover…? With an exhale, he lowered his gaze, tucking his lower lip between his teeth as he thought. Dammit, how could he be so stupid?

The door slammed open, interrupting the tense silence in the room. Sinbad’s head jerked up, eyebrows furrowed upon seeing Drakon standing in the now open doorway, a rather severe expression on his face. Hinahoho didn’t even flinch, but raised an eyebrow at the sudden intrusion. “My apologies for interrupting, your majesty, but this could not wait.” Drakon began, inclining his head slightly.

“It’s no problem, Drakon,” Sinbad replied, pushing away from his desk and rising to his feet. He didn’t like the atmosphere, the anxious trembling to the air unnerving. Something wasn’t right. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been a…rather violent gathering reported in the city. They’re not responding to cease and desist orders…In fact, some of the guard are with the group. We’re not sure of the cause just yet,” Drakon reported, his voice collected and smooth. Sinbad scowled, stepping away from the desk and walking forward, only to freeze at the sudden thought that rose in his mind.

“Oh no…” he breathed, the color draining from his face. Hinahoho turned towards him, a concerned frown tight across his face.

“What is it, Sinbad?”

“Ja’far…Ja’far went for a walk a good hour ago!” Something nagged at the back of his mind, a sense of urgency and fear striking through him like lightning. “Why didn’t he return the moment he noticed that something was happening in the city?” Drakon gazed down at him, meeting the bright golden eyes without hesitation.

“Do you think he may have been caught up in the violence?” Sucking in a shaky breath, Sinbad tried to force down the fear that was pulsing in his veins.

“I have a feeling.” Shaking his head, he continued walking, a sharp scowl ingrained in his expression. “We need to go investigate what’s going on. Let’s go.” Within seconds, they were out of the door, Sin flanked on both sides by Drakon and Hinahoho. Anger burned in Sin’s gaze, tempered only by the fear that sparked just beneath.

_Please be safe, Ja’far. Please be unharmed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you all thought I would continue where I left off last chapterrrr. 
> 
> WHOOPS!


	8. Chapter 8

Ja’far was collapsed back against the wall behind him, blood trickling from his lax lips. Pain radiated from his abdomen, lanced sharply through his skull, pulsed hotly up his arm. His eyelids drooped over his eyes, his vision fading in and out of focus with each beat of his heart. His body still wouldn’t obey his commands, not even twitching. So all he could do was lay there and contemplate why he deserved this. Tears leaked from his eyes, trickling down his bloodstained skin and onto the soaked ground below.

Above him, his attackers were discussing his fate, but he barely heard them, his ears buzzing. “Should we kill him?” one of the Sindrian royal guards asked, his gaze flicking towards the beaten and fallen form crumpled below them. Blood spattered his uniform, more dripping from his face. Yamuriaha shifted nervously next to him, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.  
  
“But…wouldn’t his majesty be mad if we did?” she whispered, blue eyes wide and worried. Sharrkan snorted next to her, but said nothing, studying the crimson stains smearing across his blade.

“He might be upset…” Pisti began, her lips twisted into a scowl. “But he’ll get over it. And he won’t be able to pin it on us, which gives us all the chance we need.” She paused, walking over to where Ja’far laid, and crouched down, small fingers wrapping around the wrist of his broken arm and pulling slightly. Ja’far whimpered softly, his already failing body overwhelmed by pain. “If we get rid of Ja’far now, he won’t get in our way in the future, leaving King Sinbad open for much more deserving candidates.” Her voice dropped low, her eyes narrowing. “So let’s get rid of him.”

Ja’far’s chest shuddered mid breath, though not entirely from fear. He wasn’t afraid of death, hadn’t been since his childhood. He knew he wasn’t deserving of Sin, not at all, but at the same time he didn’t want to leave him, not in the hands of these people. Then again…maybe it was for the best. He released a breath, wishing he could close his eyes further as more tears slid down the bridge of his nose. He deserved this for feeling the way he did.

Sin would be better off without him.

Sharrkan stepped forward after Pisti moved away, one sandaled foot slamming into his raised, and injured, shoulder and shoved him onto his back. Ja’far choked on his own scream, bright spots speckling his vision at the sudden surge of pain. Above him, the pale stars gleamed down at him, blurred by tears and blocked out by the leering expressions of the group around him. Sharrkan planted his feet on either side of Ja’far’s waist, twirling his sword in his hand. But as he reared, back, fully intent on striking, the blade was knocked form his hands.

A fist smashed into Sharrkan’s cheek, bones crushing from the force of the blow, and sent him sprawling away from Ja’far. In his place stood Sinbad, a look of pure fury etched across his features. His teeth were bared, bloodless lips peeled back to expose them. His eyebrows were furrowed, his nose crinkling as both nostrils flared. Golden eyes were cold and hard, flashing threateningly at anyone nearby. Locks of purple hair drifted in the breeze, his bangs whipping across his features. His gaze dipped down once, his eyes widening slightly in horror, and snapped back up immediately, his entire expression darkening.

“Oh, King Sinbad!” Pisti exclaimed, walking up to him. Her body was speckled with blood from head to toe, but her eyes danced happily as she stared up at her king. Sin’s eyes narrowed, his hands curling tighter into fists. “It’s so nice to see you agai-”

“ _What the fuck do you think you’re doing_?” he hissed, his voice like ice. Pisti’s eyes widened, a gasp slipping from her lips as she backed up.

“We…we were just…” Golden eyes darkened to a deep bronze, his jaw clenched.

“I don’t want to hear it…Drakon, Hinahoho, Masrur. Take this group out of my sight. Confine them to their rooms, whatever you need to do, just do it,” Sin ordered sharply, ignoring the sharp scent of blood in the air. “I’ll decide what to do with all of them when I get back.” There were only minor protests from the group, but the equally pissed expressions of those generals named silenced them in an instant. Masrur shook his head, as he hauled Sharrkan from the ground, a light scowl creasing his face.

 Sin finally focused onto the form below him, the anger washing from his face, replaced by fear and worry. He dropped to his knees, one of his hands reaching up to brush gently across Ja’far’s paling cheek. “Ja’far…” he breathed, his eyes wide. A mix of blood and tears smeared across his thumb as he swept it across the fair skin. His skin was so cold… But Ja’far didn’t respond, staring blankly up ahead. 

Oh Solomon, he prayed he hadn’t been too late.

Fear sparking through his veins, he leaned over and pulled Ja’far up, his arm looped around Ja’far’s shoulders. There was still no movement, Ja’far’s head falling limply against Sin’s chest. His heart thudded in his ears, pressing two fingers gently against Ja’far’s throat to feel around for a pulse. A faint beat thumped regularly against his fingers, Sin releasing a quiet breath at the find. But his eyes continued to rake down his advisor’s form, ice trickling down his spine at the amount of blood staining Ja’far’s robes. “Ja’far,” he whispered, horror accenting his words. “What did they do to you?”

Still no response.

Ja’far continued to stare blankly ahead, a fresh wave of tears streaming down his face. This did not go unnoticed by Sin, his jaw clenching. Moving his other arm to loop around Ja’far’s knees, he slowly, carefully, picked him up, standing up himself. A pained whimper drifted up to greet his ears, Sin’s lips tightening. “Don’t worry, Ja’far. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. They won’t hurt you anymore.” Nor ever again. Blood dripped from Ja’far’s limp fingers, marking their path in crimson droplets. Pain burned through his body, the subtle jostling slowly growing to be too much for him.

Sin continued to stare down at him, the concerned gold making his heart ache. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Sin. “Shh, Ja’far,” Sin murmured, his arms wrapping tighter around Ja’far’s body. “You’re safe. You’re safe…”   
  
Oh, how Ja’far wished that was true.

He wished he didn’t feel so safe like this, here, in Sin’s arms.

The world faded to darkness around him to Sin’s comforting whispers, his body finally giving out against the strain of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE JA'FAR'S SAVED! 
> 
> BUT I'M NOT DONE YETTTT~


	9. Chapter 9

When Ja’far awoke next, his body ached far less, a dull, distant throbbing that pulsed at regular intervals. Warmth encased his body, thick blankets draped comfortably over him. His eyelids twitched over his eyes, the mere feeling of movement causing relief to swell within him. He could move again. The room was encased in silence, even with the bustling of the palace staff that he knew was occurring just outside his door. Releasing a deep, relaxed breath, he rolled his head more comfortably on his pillow, content to just lay here for a little while. A heavily bandaged arm was draped over his abdomen, holding the break in place to set normally until a healer could be brought in. He could tell none had been in just yet, just by the way his body felt still.

It scared him a little just how much this potion was effecting the efficiency of the palace.

His eyes cracked open slightly as the door clicked shut, gaze dragging lazily up to the tall form of Sinbad standing at the entryway, a small tray balanced in one of his hands. Steam billowed up from the single bowl, the faint scent of chicken broth filling the room, intermixed with Sin’s own musk. It was a comforting smell, though there was a sickening churn of guilt in Ja’far’s stomach that pushed away any appetite he actually had.

_How dare he..?_

Sin blinked once, in surprise, but a warm smile soon stretched across his face, his golden eyes glittering in relief. He moved over to the bed, where a lone chair sat, and placed the tray down on its seat before lowering himself onto the mattress instead. The plush cushion dipped slightly at his weight, the sheets crinkling under him. “Hey, Ja’far,” he greeted, keeping his voice low. One of his hands came up to brush aside strands of silver hair from Ja’far’s forehead, the skin around his eyes tightening at the sight of the vivid bruise that was painted in blacks and purples along Ja’far’s temple. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Are you in pain? I wasn’t able to get you a healer just yet. Yamuraiha has been confined to her rooms and I don’t trust her with your, or anyone’s, health right now.” His fingers lingered on Ja’far’s skin, tracing gently down his face before pulling away.

Ja’far’s lips twitched once, as if to smile, his uninjured hand curling slightly around the blankets. At least he wouldn’t have to see them for a while. “I’m alright, Sin…” he responded hoarsely, his mouth dry. At the harsh, grating sound of Ja’far’s voice, Sin leaned forward to grab the glass of water on the tray. “No, no. I’m fine, Sin. I don’t need a drink.” A skeptical twist to his mouth, Sin sat back. If he needed a drink, he could damn well get it on his own.

They sat in silence for a few moments, their gazes locked together, but neither wanting to speak, for their own reasons. But finally, Sin sighed, interlacing his fingers in his lap. “What happened out there, Ja’far? Why did they attack you?”

_Why are you defending King Sinbad?_

_It’s disgusting watching the two of you._

Ja’far averted his gaze, biting down on the inside of his cheek until a sour burst of blood spilled onto his tongue. “It was…a misunderstanding. Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Sin.” A scowl slashed across Sin’s face at Ja’far’s words, a strong surge of anger sweeping through him.

“Really…” His voice sounded flat with disbelief. “They broke your arm and made you lose that much blood because of a ‘misunderstanding’…”

“Yes?” Ja’far nearly winced at the hesitation in his own tone, cursing his absolute inability to lie when talking to Sinbad. Sin ran a hand through his hair, his own frustration mounting.

“I somehow find that really hard to believe, Ja’far. Was it because of the potion? Because of me?” Ja’far didn’t answer, his eyes flicking back over to his king. He hated it when Sin asked questions he already knew the answers to. His hand curled tighter around the blankets, the fabric bunched in his palm.

“Why ask if you already knew the answer…” Ja’far muttered, almost bitterly. Golden eyes darkened, flashing in warning. 

“I wanted to hear your side of it, Ja’far! To see what needs to be done with those involved!” Scowling himself, Ja’far moved to push himself upright, ignoring the sharp, stabbing pain that lanced through him at the movement. At least he could move…  
  
“Don’t punish them. It’s not their fault…”  
  
No, it’s his. All his. It’s his fault because of the way he felt.

“Don’t punish…Ja’far, they hurt you. They  _paralyzed_  you just for that purpose! What the hell do you want me to do? Just ignore it?!”

“Wasn’t their fault.”  
  
“Then whose fault was it?” Sin all but roared, his question ground out from behind clenched teeth. Ja’far glanced away once more, unable to respond. It would be better if Sin didn’t know, better for everyone. Sin exhaled heavily, attempting to force away his growing anger. “What’s going on with you lately, Ja’far? Ever since this all started, you’ve been distant and it’s starting to worry me.”

“It’s fine, Sin. There’s nothing to worry about.” Sin leaned closer, bringing his face level to Ja’far’s.

“Like hell there isn’t,” he growled, his eyes narrowed. Ja’far glared back at him, dark eyes sparking with anger.

“There’s nothing wrong. I’m fine.”

“Yea, sure you are. Just like how this-” He grabbed Ja’far’s broken arm and pulled it up into Ja’far’s line of vision, barely even flinching at the pained hiss that slipped from between Ja’far’s lips. “Shows just how fucking fine you are. How about you tell me the truth, Ja’far?!” The pain just spurred Ja’far on further, brining all of his senses into full focus as it always did.

“It’s none of your business. Just leave it alone. Don’t you have a meeting to be at?” Ja’far hissed, watching the surprise and hurt flash quickly against Sin’s features. His guilt only grew, throbbing more painfully than any of his injuries.

“For your information, I cancelled a meeting with Princess Zobeida to make sure you were alright! Forgive me for worrying about you!”

“I already said I was fine! Why don’t you just go flirt with the princess then? We both know you’d rather be doing that then be in here! So go!” Sin’s eyes widened, pushing himself slowly from the bed as if recoiling from Ja’far’s words. Shock echoed around in his thoughts, even as he stared down at those unreadable dark eyes. The fury on Ja’far’s face was tempered with pain, but the snarl to his lips was all too real. Sin’s anger reared once more, quicker than he expected it to.

“Fine…” he said, his voice cold. “I’ll go flirt with the princess then, seeing as that’s all you see me capable of doing.” He moved to the door, his hand pausing on the doorknob. “Next time, I won’t bother worrying. After all, you’re always ‘fine’.”

He walked through the door, slamming it loudly shut behind him. Ja’far just stared at it, his chest heaving even as regret began to fast replace the anger.

This is what he wanted…right?

_Disgusting…_

_Disgusting…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil laughter*
> 
> And you all thought I was going to make this better. 
> 
> *louder evil laughter*


	10. Chapter 10

_A few days later…_

Hinahoho heaved a heavy sigh and scratched at the back of his head, reaching towards the handle of the door that lead into the records office. With Ja’far out of commission for a while and Sinbad as busy as he was, the task of making sure Sindria stayed afloat fell on his shoulders, especially with Drakon guarding those generals who had been confined to their rooms for the time being. He had been reminded, quickly, just how much he despised deskwork. Sitting at a desk for hours on end, staring at scrolls that were practically written in a different language, those jobs were best left to someone who actually liked the musty smell of the scrolls. So it was with stiff shoulders and a cramped back that he had made his way down to the records room, fully intent on continuing the work he hadn’t finished yesterday.

The moment the door opened, he froze.

Sitting at the center desk, with several scrolls splayed messily around him, sat Ja’far. White hair stuck up at random angles, the clear evidence of raking fingers shone with the dark streaks of black ink that interwove through the pale strands. His right arm was still bound tightly to his chest, the sling confining movement. Other bandages poked out from beneath the collar of his robes, bruises staining his skin dark along the planes of his face. Muttered curses drifted towards Hinahoho, frustration heavy in even the sound of the words.

“Ja’far?” Hinahoho asked softly, stepping further into the room. Ja’far jolted upright in surprise, a sharp hiss of pain slipping out from between his lips. A few scrolls rolled down from the desk, clattering loudly to the floor. With an irritated huff, Ja’far leaned over stiffly to retrieve the fallen items, pain creasing the skin around his eyes. Hinahoho’s eyebrows furrowed, a concerned frown pulling at his lips. “Ja’far, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in bed resting.”

Onyx eyes slipped over to the approaching man briefly, the deep exhaustion lines carving just below them only accenting Hinahoho’s worry. Pale stubble dotted Ja’far’s wan cheeks, seemingly out of place on his usually clean shaven features. “There’s work to be done, Hinahoho,” Ja’far answered dully, tearing his eyes away as he reached down with his only moveable arm to grab at the scrolls on the floor. “Somebody has to do it.” Sighing heavily, Hinahoho walked over and knocked Ja’far’s hand away and grabbed the items himself.

“Why do you think I’m here, Ja’far?” This didn’t sit right with him, not at all. “You’re supposed to be resting, at least until we can get you a healer.” He paused, amber eyes studying the stubborn gleam to Ja’far’s dark eyes. “What’s going on, Ja’far?” Scowling harshly, Ja’far yanked the scroll from Hinahoho’s hands, ignoring the sharp burn that resulted from the violent movement.

“If Sin can go around flirting instead of working, then somebody has to make sure Sindria is in order. I’m always fine anyway…” The last sentence was muttered bitterly, a sardonic smile stretching across his face.

_Disgusting._

“…I see. Ja’far, go get some rest. I’ll take over for today, alright?” Ja’far shook his head, his good hand squeezing the quill.

“I’m fine, Hinahoho. Just go about your usual activities.” Hinahoho stared at him for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that Ja’far was not going to budge on the matter. So he stalked off towards the door, allowing it to shut behind him before an aggravated huff growled out from his throat.

So this was Sinbad’s fault, eh?

Well he had some explaining to do.

**MLMMLM**

“I see, Your Highness,” Sinbad said, arms crossed across his chest. Princess Zobeida sat before him, her hands delicately placed upon her lap. Her painted lips were upturned in a polite smile, her expression trained to convey her composure. Only her blue eyes glittered with worry, a genuine concern for her country. That was something Sinbad could relate to at least. “So you’ve been having problems with the Kou Empire.” Her fingers twitched, but stayed where they were.

“Yes, your majesty. They’ve been attacking our borders without rest for several months now. Coming to you is our last option, King Sinbad. If you cannot help us, I’m afraid that Perussica may be lost to the empire,” she explained, her voice tight. Fingers curling tighter around her hand, she refused to fidget, even under the steady golden gaze trained upon her.

When Sin opened his mouth to respond, the door creaked open, Hinahoho sticking his head through the crack. “My apologies, madam,” he began civilly, ignoring the icy glare being thrown his way. “But I need to borrow King Sinbad for a moment.” She nodded, inclining her head. A small smile danced across her features.

“By all means, General. Please do.” Hinahoho walked into the room, bowing briefly before moving over to Sinbad. Golden eyes were glowing with annoyance, Sin’s lips pressed tight together.

“Can this wait, Hinahoho?” Sin hissed under his breath. Hinahoho grabbed his arm and hauled Sin to his feet, his own eyes narrowed in anger.

“No, it can’t.” Sin stopped at the snarl to his general’s words, his eyes widening imperceptibly. Without another word, he allowed himself to be dragged from the room, his eyebrows drawing together. Zobeida just watched them go, unable to keep the amusement from her face.

When they were outside, Hinahoho turned to Sinbad, his grip tightening around Sin’s arm. “What the hell did you do to Ja’far?” he growled, a deep scowl slashing violently across his features. Sin grunted, his arm beginning to throb at Hinahoho’s hold.

“Really? That’s what you pulled me out of a diplomatic meeting for?! I didn’t do anything to Ja’far! Perhaps you should ask  _him_ what’s going on!” Anger snapped in his words, glaring up at Hinahoho. The hallway was bathed in silence, any palace workers that had been walking through the area scattering at the first growled word. Not that Sin really noticed.

“Oh really? You did nothing? Then perhaps you could explain to me why Ja’far’s attempting to work right now when he should be resting?!” Sucking in a shocked breath, he blinked in surprise at the sudden concern that surged through him.

“Wait, he’s out of bed? Since when?”

“Have you even been checking up on him, Sinbad? He can’t even take care of himself right now and he’s at a desk right now, working. All because you’re too busy flirting to run your own country.” Just like that, Sinbad’s anger returned, pulling his hand out of Hinahoho’s grasp.

“Did it look like I was flirting in there, Hinahoho?! I’m working on expanding the Seven Seas Alliance and pulling another country away for the Kou Empire! Does that sound like flirting to you?” Hinahoho’s eyes flicked to the closed door, a thoughtful gleam to the vibrant amber. Sighing deeply, Sin stepped away from the large man. “Look, I’ll go to talk to Ja’far after I’m done here, alright? There’s something going on that we’re both missing and I intend to figure it out.” Rubbing tiredly at his forehead, Hinahoho exhaled slowly and nodded.

“Go, finalize the deal or whatever. But I expect you to fix this, Sinbad.” A small smile pulled at Sin’s expression, his hand frozen on the doorknob.

“And I will, Hinahoho. I will.” And without another word, he walked back into the room, his smile widening to political politeness standards. He inclined his head to Zobeida as he moved back over to his seat, thankful that he’d at least gotten out of that conversation without bruises. That was always a concern when dealing with a furious Hinahoho. “My apologies, your highness.”

“Is there a problem?” she asked, smoothing her skirts over her knees.

“Not at all. Hinahoho was just reminding me of something I must attend to after our meeting. Now please, let us continue.”  
  
“Of course, your majesty.”

“What do you need from Sindria?” Zobeida paused before answering, her blue eyes studying Sinbad momentarily as she thought over her next words.

“We require your assistance in pushing back the Kou Empire, King Sinbad.” Sin’s smile grew sharp, his eyes gleaming slyly.

“And what would your country give us in return for this aid?” Zobeida toyed with the rings circling her fingers, teeth chewing at the inside of her lips.

“My country, my father, is desperate, your majesty. We are prepared to offer anything within our power to secure this treaty.” Then, slipping one of the rings from her fingers, she placed it delicately on the table between them, blue eyes refusing to meet Sinbad’s gaze.

“Even me, if that it was it takes,” she finished softly.

Outside the door, Ja’far froze, his arm tightening around the scrolls that needed to be delivered to Sin. Nausea churned in his stomach, the color draining from his features.

Without bothering to deliver the scrolls, Ja’far turned and walked away, ignoring the pain that throbbed with every beat of his heart.

This was for the best, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, still not letting up on the angst. 
> 
> *runs away*


	11. Chapter 11

“Your words and your expression are saying two different things, Princess.”

Zobeida stiffened at Sin’s words, blue eyes widening as they shot up to meet his. Sin gazed back at her, an amused smile dancing across his features. Fear shot across her face when he leaned over and plucked up the slender band from the table, bringing it up to eye level in order to study it. Silence filled the room, her heart thudding harshly in her chest. How quickly King Sinbad has seen right through her… Finally Sin allowed the ring to fall into his palm, his fingers curling around it, and stood, holding out his hand to help her up.

“Come. Let’s take a walk, your highness,” he suggested, offering her a gentle smile. Slowly, she took his hand and rose to her feet, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Once they were in the corridor outside, the bustle of the palace washed away the tense silence, but even that wasn’t quite able to erase her anxiety, no matter how familiar the sound. Sinbad was at ease, smiling at each passing member of his staff, his posture relaxed. But his hand remained curled around the ring. Behind them, Masrur dogged their footsteps, his gaze sharp as it snapped around the hall.

“Ohhh, King Sinbad, there you are!” a reedy voice shot through the ambient noises, a young woman, dressed in the Sindrian uniform, wove through the other workers, a jug of what appeared to be wine clutched in her hand. It was with a bright smile on her face that she made her way over to her king. “I’ve been looking everywhere for-oh!” As busy as she had been rushing over, she missed the single tile that stuck up a little higher than the rest, her toe catching on the raised edge and throwing her off balance.

The wine jug toppled from her fingers, spraying across the floor and splashing onto Sinbad’s robes, as she pitched forward. Sin grabbed her before she could fall, steadying her once more. Her hands splayed across his chest, a dark blush staining her cheeks. Her eyes stared up at him, her smile dreamy. “King Sinbad,” she breathed, her hands sliding gently across his rumpled robes to feel more of the muscles lingering just beneath. “I…” Sighing heavily, Sinbad glanced back at Masrur.

“Masrur, take Marie to get cleaned up for me, will you?” he ordered, a sort of tired amusement glimmering in his golden eyes. Masrur nodded and took the young woman from Sin’s grasp, shaking his head slightly when she moved to protest. When they were gone, Sin grinned at Zobeida, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. “My apologies, your highness. Your visit happened to coincide with some…unusual circumstances which should hopefully be cleared up sometime soon.” As he spoke, he blinked suddenly, studying the princess with more interest.

“No harm done, King Sinbad. Shall we continue our walk?” Silent for a moment, his smile widened as he nodded, already beginning to walk.

“If that is what you desire, Princess.”

Interesting. Very interesting.

The sun was just beginning to set when they made it to an open balcony, a mixture of oranges and pinks spreading across the horizon. The courtyard stretched out below, mostly vacant as people began the preparations for dinner. Sin walked over to the edge and rested his hands on the rail, not even glancing back to check if she followed. Zobeida hovered at his shoulder, her hands clasped tightly before her. The chirps of crickets echoed across the emptiness, the air cool and pleasant as it breezed past.

“You don’t want to marry me, do you, your highness?” he questioned softly, lifting the hand with the ring in order to twirl the band between his fingers. Zobeida blinked in shock, a startled gasp slipping silently from between her lips. He laughed when he looked back, watching the color draining from her features. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. But I did just discover something interesting. Do you care to hear?”

“O-of course, King Sinbad!” She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on here, but she was willing to listen to what he had to say.

“The palace right now…is under the influence of a very powerful spell, made by one of my own generals. Only a few remain unaffected, but that’s enough to keep things moving smoothly. But the effects of the spell cause a situation like the one you just witnessed now, with Marie.” He paused, a thoughtful curl to his lip. “The spell is engineered so that anyone who comes in contact with me falls in love, sometimes violently so. Only those who have previous attachments to other people remain unaffected.” His smile was blinding. Her body tensed, his words making immediate sense. “Which is why I find immensely interesting why you  _don’t_ want to marry me, Princess Zobeida. Care to explain why that is?” She stared, eyes wide, at him, her mouth hanging open. After a few moments, she gathered herself, and closing her eyes, she angled her head towards the floor before she began to speak.

“I…I am already engaged, your majesty,” she admitted in a whisper, her nails digging into her wrists. “To a young woman, a member of my personal guard. My father asked me to offer myself to you in order to secure a treaty, and I thought I could, but I…I can’t leave her. She means too much to me.” Tears seeped out from beneath her closed eyelids, her lips pressing tightly together. “I hope you understand.” She tensed once she finished, expecting the worst.

Laughter followed her words, Zobeida’s eyes popping open in surprise. Sin had his head in one of his hands, his body shaking as he laughed. “I’m sorry, your highness. I just find it amusing. Not only are you already in love, but you’re not even attracted to my gender.” His voice was heavy with amusement and slightly strained as he attempted to control himself. “That’s as far from being in love with me that you can get.”

“You’re not mad?” He turned towards her, holding the ring out for her to reclaim.

“Why would I be? I have no intention to be married at this point in time.” With a trembling hand, she pulled the ring from his grasp, holding it delicately. “There’s just too much going on right now for me to settle down just yet.”

“But what about the treaty?”

“I hear your country produces magnificent cut stones and jewelry. Let’s open trade routes so that both of our countries can benefit. I can send reinforcements to your country’s borders to help fight off the Kou Empire. Though I doubt they’ll be attacking much anymore once they hear you’re a member of the Seven Seas Alliance.” Her eyes still wide, she could only stare, unable to process what he was saying.

“So I don’t have to marry you?” His smile grew softer, shaking his head.

“No, you don’t have to marry me.”

“Thank you, King Sinbad! That is very relieving to hear!” She grinned, her eyes gleaming brightly. Slipping the ring onto her finger once more, she moved to stand beside Sin, carefully wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. Sin leaned up against the balcony railing as she gazed out into the horizon, watching the sun sink behind the edge. Silence fell over them once more, a much more comfortable silence.

“…Are you in love, King Sinbad?” Sin jerked in surprise, not expecting the sudden question. But was more surprising was he already knew the answer to her question, even without thinking about it.

“Perhaps…Why do you ask?” Zobeida was beautiful standing in the fading sunlight, the happiness on her features only accenting her natural beauty. But she wasn’t for him. No, that place belonged to a different person.

“I was just thinking about how sad it would be if someone as amazing as you didn’t have someone they loved and trusted at their side.” Sin didn’t know how to respond, his eyes slipping to the side. “Have you told them?”

“No…I haven’t.”

“You should, your majesty. Before you can’t anymore.” Sin closed his eyes, the breeze rustling his bangs.

It might already be too late for him to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Explanations! But hope you guys enjoyed this little respite, cuz we're taking a dive again next week into angst. hehe


	12. Chapter 12

Sin hesitated, his hand hovering just over the door. Scuffling footsteps seeped through the thin wood, a simple, repetitive sound, though more lopsided than it should be. Light seeped out from under the door, streaking out in a wide arc at his feet. He chewed at the inside of his lip, eyes turned down towards the light. Should he really be doing this? Even if he shouldn’t, something needed to be done about Ja’far’s current state of wellbeing. So, taking a deep breath, he knocked once at the door, listening to the dulled thuds as they echoed into the room just behind it. Silence lingered just after the last of the echoes faded, Sin’s shoulders tensing with each passing moment.

“Come in,” Ja’far said, his voice barely filtering through the door. But it was what Sin had been waiting to hear. Straightening his posture, Sin opened the door, plastering a grin onto his face. Ja’far sat at his desk, tapping the feather of his quill against his face. A candle sat at his elbow, melted wax dripping slowly down its sides. Frustration pulled at his lips, his brow pulled together as he stared down at the document in front of him. His hair was mussed, sticking up at odd angles as if he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly. Ja’far was hunched slightly in his chair, sitting gingerly so as to not upset the bruised and broken ribs. The bandages wrapped around his chest poked out from underneath his unbuttoned shirt, blood seeping slowly out from beneath the white cloth. His arm was still tied against his chest, thankfully. Sin wouldn’t put it past Ja’far to attempt to use the limb if he had the option.

“I thought I put you on bedrest,” Sin mused, heaving out a sigh. Ja’far’s dark eyes slid over to him, his scowl deepening. But he didn’t answer, instead writing something on the page in front of him. “How can you even write with your arm broken?”

“I’m ambidextrous, Sin. You know that.” The words were clipped and short, almost as if he was dismissing Sin before they could even begin talking. Sin rolled his head back onto his shoulders, bringing a hand up to rub at his head. It was going to be  _that_  kind of conversation, wasn’t it?

“You’re still supposed to be on bedrest, Ja’far. We haven’t been able to get a healer in to see you yet.” Concern seeped into his tone, his golden eyes bright and intense as he stared down at his advisor. Ja’far shrugged, his expression contorting to a slight grimace before settling back to normal. “Can you please think about yourself, just for a little while?” For a few seconds, Ja’far said nothing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Princess Zobeida?” he asked quietly. Sin blinked, taken aback by the sudden question.

“I just left her. The terms of the treaty have been finalized. But why do you even ask, Ja’far?” Ja’far lowered the pen slowly down the desk, his eyes shutting briefly. Rising to his feet, he turned towards Sinbad, his expression carefully blank.

“Should I begin planning out the wedding details?” Sin’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open slightly.

“What are you even talking about? There is no wedding!” Onyx eyes appeared troubled for a moment, confusion flashing across Ja’far’s expression.

“Surely you must marry her…” Sin stepped closer to Ja’far, shaking his head slowly.

“No, it was an possibility for a while, but nothing more. She doesn’t love me, Ja’far, at all.” With a wry smile, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Actually, she’s not even attracted to me in the slightest and is engaged to someone else.”

“The potion?”

“Doesn’t affect her at all. She has an attachment to another person.” Ja’far paused, his eyes dropping from Sin’s.

“So how did you finalize the treaty?”

“New trade routes,” Sin explained, a little relieved that he’d been able to nip that in the bud. “In exchange for joining the Seven Seas Alliance, we’re going to open up new trade routes between our countries. No marriage was necessary.” Ja’far’s hand shook, clasping at his robes.

“I see…That’s good to hear then.” Sin sighed heavily, his arms dropping to the sides. This was getting nowhere. He stepped forward, resisting the urge to pull Ja’far into his arms, like he had done the morning that this insanity had started. It seemed like ages ago.

“Ja’far…I’m worried. What’s going on with you?” He gently rested a hand on Ja’far’s shoulder, squeezing it once. Ja’far didn’t meet his gaze, swatting at Sin’s hand.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are. I let it go earlier because dammit you had just woken up, but this is getting ridiculous, Ja’far. What’s gotten into you?!” Sin scowled, his eyes darkening.

“I said I’m fine, Sin!”

“You’re not fine, Ja’far! That much is painfully obvious! What happened? Did I do something wrong? Is that why you’re upset?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, Sin.” Ja’far turned away, walking towards the window in the back of the room. His eyes squeezed shut, his hand clenched into a tight fist. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not right now.

“Then what is it? Just tell me, Ja’far! So I can fix it if I can!” Sin took a step closer. This was not how he had planned this to go at all. Dammit.

Perhaps he really was too late.

“You can’t fix this, Sin.” Ja’far’s heart thudded in his ears, his throat bobbing when he swallowed harshly. Why had Sin come here? Why?

“I want to, Ja’far. I don’t like seeing you like this. So please, just let me help you…”

“You can’t help me! Just leave me alone, Sin!” Ja’far snapped, spinning on his heel to face his king. Sin was taken aback at the harsh slap of those words, the anger dropping from his expression. Ja’far glared at him, onyx eyes sparking with anger. His lips were curved into a deep scowl, his skin pale in the candlelight. Sin let his eyes shut, running a quick hand over his face.

“Just tell me why, Ja’far. Tell me why and I’ll leave you alone.” A growl nearly leapt from Ja’far’s throat, and in the angry buzz of his thoughts, his next words flew from his lips without his consent.

“ _Because I love you, you idiot!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE A CONFESSION!
> 
> ABOUT FUCKING TIME RIGHT GUYS?


	13. Chapter 13

_“Because I love you, you idiot!”_

Ja’far stared at Sin, breathing heavily. His own words echoed in the room, a stunned silence falling over them after it faded. Onyx eyes widened slowly, the color draining from his already pale features. His mouth clicked shut, feet stepping back until his heels collided with the wall. Had…had he really just said that? Panic licking at his thoughts, he swallowed harshly, nausea creeping up his throat. Surprise shone on Sin’s features, his golden eyes wide. But Ja’far was just waiting for the disgust to crawl across his expression, for the loathing that would likely destroy him inside and out.

For a few moments, neither said anything.

Shaking his head, Ja’far pushed off from the wall. He didn’t want to hear anything that Sin had to say, didn’t want to see his reaction. Dammit, why had he even said anything?! He walked forward, stepping around Sinbad, his gaze glued to the floor. “You know what, just forget I said anything,” he mumbled. Sin sighed heavily, following Ja’far with his gaze.

“Ja’far, wait,” he began, turning as Ja’far made his way to the door.

“It’s fine, Sin. Just forget it. It’s not important.” Sin rolled his eyes, exhaling harshly, and reached out to grab Ja’far’s wrist, stopping him before he could leave. Ja’far stilled instantly at Sin’s touch, his muscles tensing. Sin opened his mouth, ready to speak, when Ja’far just continued. “I’m fine, Sin. You don’t have to say anything. I know you don’t reciprocate my-” Sin pulled him closer, yanking on his arm, and silenced him by gently lowering his lips onto Ja’far’s.

Ja’far’s eyes flew open, his mind screeching to a sudden halt at the feeling of Sin’s soft lips on his. That…had been a reaction that he had not been expecting. Sin pulled away slowly, his eyes drifting open to lock onto Ja’far’s. “Will you let me talk now, Ja’far?” he asked, amusement tinging his tone at the shock etched on his advisor’s face. Ja’far nodded, not willing to trust his mouth to speak. Sin smiled. “Good. Now what gave you the idea that I didn’t feel the same way towards you that you feel towards me?” Ja’far didn’t respond, his gaze skirting away. Sighing, Sin released his wrist.

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but whoever said that couldn’t have been any more wrong if they tried. I’ve been confused, for a while now, at my own feelings. I would get angry whenever you were talking to someone else and they seemed to be just a little too friendly towards you. And, even just a few days ago, when I thought you had a lover, I was scared and sickened…because that person you loved, wouldn’t be me.” He paused, his lips pulled down into a soft, sad frown. “But I was talking with Princess Zobeida…and she asked me if there was anyone out there who I loved. I think what surprised me most about that question is that I knew the answer without even thinking about it.”

“I love you, Ja’far. I think I always have. And I’m sorry if I’ve ever done anything to make you think otherwise.” Leaning down, Sin pressed a kiss to Ja’far’s forehead, one of his hands coming up to smooth.

“You haven’t done anything to make me feel that way, Sin…I just thought that if you ever found out about…about how I felt, you’d be disgusted. So I thought I was better off just shoving them away and continuing as if nothing was wrong. But then this potion destroyed all of my plans. You started wondering why I wasn’t affected by the potion. It was because I was already in love with you, Sin. This whole time. I was afraid that you were going to figure it out, but you never did. And then…that night, they threw into my face my own thoughts and fears about your reaction, about how my feelings for you were ultimately disgusting in nature…” His voice hitched, his head inclining downward to hide his expression. Sin wrapped his arms tightly around Ja’far, dragging him even closer.

“It’s not disgusting, Ja’far. I would never find your emotions disgusting. They’re your emotions and nobody has the right to judge you for them, not even me. Alright?” Ja’far nodded against his chest, his arm coming up to grasp at Sin’s loose robes. Sin sighed quietly, a small smile playing at his lips. It was a start, at least. It would likely take a while for him to completely fix this, but for now, this was enough.

Ja’far pulled away after a few moments, meeting Sin’s eyes. Still smiling, Sin leaned in and captured Ja’far’s lips with his. This time, Ja’far responded eagerly, his mouth melding firmly against Sin’s. His hand still fisted in Sin’s robes, he arched up closer to him. Sin’s arms loosened around him, sliding down from around his shoulders to loop around his waist. Air puffing out from his nose, Sin slanted his lips, parting them slightly to nip against the dry lips against his. Ja’far groaned in the back of his throat, his own mouth opening. Without needing further invitation, Sin slipped his tongue inside of the waiting mouth, resisting the urge to laugh at Ja’far’s resulting jolt in surprise.

Onyx eyes drifted shut, his heart thudding loudly against already bruised ribs. But he didn’t mind all that much. Sin took a step closer, his arms looping tighter around Ja’far’s waist. If they had been paying much attention to their surroundings, they would have noticed the distinct snap in the air around them as well as the sudden absence of power. Faint flutters of rukh billowed into the air, disappearing into the light of the moon. The candle flickered out, a wisp of smoke puffing upwards from where the flame had once existed, the room suddenly encased in darkness. But moonlight was light enough for them, their bodies bathed in the single stream of it that splashed through the window.

The potion had finally lost its power.

Outside the door, Zobeida smiled to herself, a hand rising to cover her mouth to halt the laughter that wanted to escape. After all, it wouldn’t do to disturb them, not after all the work she had to put in to get them to this point. It had been her goal to get them together ever since she had noticed the tension between the two when she had stepped off the boat. Stubborn idiots. But, oh well.

All’s well that ends well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter guys! Thanks for sticking with me for this long!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys! <3

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to help me this morning, Sin,” Ja’far grumbled, awkwardly holding the morning’s work in the crook of his good arm. Sin hovered just behind, a smile curving his lips behind the pile of completed scrolls in his own arms. Late morning light filtered in brightly through the open windows, a warm, gentle breeze blowing gently through the openings. Ja’far had an irritated scowl crossing his features, but his eyes were soft, gentle even as he glanced back to look at his king. Similarly, Sin’s eyes glowed.

“Who says I went out of my way?” Sin countered, his lips parting as his grin widened. Ja’far rolled his eyes, shifting his burden upwards to aid his grip. A flicker of pain flashed across his face at the movement, but was gone in an instant. Damn injuries.

“Sin, you were up even earlier than I was. You went out of your way to help me, now stop you attempts at being suave, or I’ll kill you where you stand.” Ja’far froze at the arm that suddenly snaked its way around his waist, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Behind him, Sin chuckled, lips positioned directly by his exposed ear.

“As if you could,” he breathed, the air brushing past the sensitive skin. Goosebumps peppered Ja’far’s skin, a faint flush darkening his cheeks. His arm loosened around the scrolls, not even noticing when they slipped out of his grasp one by one. “But, you’re more than welcome to try, if that is what you wish.” Ja’far’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, warmth beginning to spread throughout his body at Sin’s touch. Sin pulled him closer, the shift causing the work in Sin’s hands to clatter loudly to the floor.

Ja’far flinched, the loud noise dragging him straight out of the daze he had been lost in. Ice shot down his spine, washing away whatever warmth Sin had inspired in him. At its absence, anger surged through him, his dark eyes dropping down to the scrolls scattered all over the tiled floors. Some had unraveled, interlocking lines of paper laid one over the other as their source continued to roll in the opposite direction. His scowl returning, he pulled violently away from Sin, whirling around to glare at the man in question. “Sin, now look what you’ve done!” Golden eyes blinked innocently at him, slipping down momentarily to look at the mess.

“Heh…I’ll pick it up?”

“You better pick it up! You caused it! You can’t just-”

“Ja’far!” Ja’far’s rant was cut off by a high pitched call of his name, stopping him cold. His eyes widened a fraction, turning just in time to watch a blur of pink rush at him. Not a moment later, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his waist, a sobbing head pressed into his chest. He stiffened, surprised by the hug. “Ja’far, I’m so sorry,” Pisti sobbed, clutching tightly at him. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…”

Sin lifted an eyebrow, confusion clouding his expression, even when Ja’far glanced back at him. His shoulders rose and fell in a weak shrug. “I said so many awful things to you…I didn’t mean them…” Her tears soaked into Ja’far’s robes, her body trembling weakly as she clung to him. Sighing softly, Ja’far gently placed his good hand onto her head, fingers combing through the thin golden strands of hair. She nuzzled her face in further, her grip tight around the back of his uniform.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, brushing his hands through her hair. “I know you didn’t mean it.” Her head tilted up, watery brown eyes gazing up at him. Her cheeks were bright red, her lips trembling. Ja’far smiled, onyx eyes soft. “I never once blamed you…any of you.” And with that, he lifted his head, leveling his gaze with the two people lingering just at the end of the hallway. Sharrkan looked away, his expression troubled. Yamuraiha stared back, hands clutching at her heart. Without another word, she surged forward, joining Pisti in wrapping Ja’far into a tight hug.

At Ja’far’s muffled wince, which he attempted to swallow back, she pulled back, sharp, tearstained eyes raking up and down his form, locking onto the bandages instantly. Blue eyes widened, her hands going for her staff. “You haven’t been healed yet…Why haven’t you been healed yet?!” she rambled, half under her breath. Distractedly, she tugged Pisti off of Ja’far, still mumbling inaudibly. Sin huffed bitterly behind her, having caught her first words.

“Maybe if you hadn’t made the damn potion, there would have been healers available for this,” he hissed, his golden eyes flinty. She didn’t even pay him any mind, magic already beginning to build on the tip of her staff. It glowed a faint blue, illuminating the exhaustion creasing her face. Pisti sniffed loudly behind her, lifting a hand to rub at her leaking nose and eyes. Yamuraiha breathed deeply in through her nose, her eyes slipping shut as the magic flooded her senses. Exhaling, she released it, allowing it to flow into Ja’far instead.

The tension rolled from Ja’far’s shoulders, the sharp ache from his injuries finally beginning to ebb with the spell coursing through his body. Lacerations, which had only been in the beginning stages of healing, knit together, leaving unblemished skin behind. A grimace slipped across his face when the bones of his arm grinded together, snapping back into their correct setting, but that pain faded shortly thereafter. Slowly, he removed the arm from its sling, stretching the newly mended muscles and bones. A relieved smile stretched across his face, the last of his pain finally disappearing from his body.

“Thank you, Yamuriaha,” he said, nodding his head at her. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her knuckles white around her staff. The last of the magic faded from the air around her, the glow vanishing along with it.

“Please don’t thank me. I was only fixing what I caused in the first place. It was my fault. You couldn’t fight back, you couldn’t defend yourself. You could only lie there…because of me. Oh, Solomon…I am so sorry…” Her eyes squeezed shut, her head lowering even further.

“I already said that there’s nothing to apologize for, Yamuriaha.”

“That doesn’t make what happened right.” Ja’far sighed, tucking his hands into his sleeves.

“Perhaps not. But what you did, you did under the influence of the potion that you gave to Sin. Would you do it again, now that you’re clear-headed?” Her head flew up, her blue eyes wide with horror.

“No! I would never…” Ja’far smiled, nodding at her response.

“Then that’s all I need to hear.” Her mouth dropped open, her mind floundering for something to say in response. Sin came up behind Ja’far, glaring down at her. Ja’far may have forgiven them, but it would take a while for him to do the same. After all, it was he who had to pick up the pieces left behind by their actions, and though it was alright now, it had very nearly not been.

“Who even let you guys out of your rooms anyway…” he grumbled, scowling down at the generals. Yamuraiha shyly glanced up at him, teeth closing down on her bottom lip.

“Masrur did this morning. The potion’s effects disappeared late last night as far as I can tell…” she answered, meek words dropping heavily into the silence. Sin sucked in a slow breath, bringing a hand up to rub at his forehead.

“Let me guess…Masrur was under the potion’s effects this whole time…” Yamuriaha nodded, her grip tight around her staff. “Of course he was…Why am I not surprised?” Ja’far smirked, craning his head back to look at Sin.

“Because it was fairly obvious. I think you were the only one not to notice,” he said, an eyebrow raised. Sin’s scowl deepened, his arms crossing sternly across his chest.

“Then why did you let him into my guard, Ja’far?” Ja’far shrugged, his eyes narrowing.

“He wasn’t going to do anything to hurt or distract you. So I let him stay with us.”

“That was a very big risk you took.”

“I don’t think there was any risk in him just staring at your ass all the time, Sin.” Sin rolled his eyes at the dryly spoken words, shaking his head. Masrur, standing with his hands locked firmly behind his back, didn’t even blink, even when Sharrkan erupted into hysterics beside him. It was time to change the subject.

“How did the potion stop working anyway?” Yamuriaha’s brow furrowed, a thoughtful curve pulling at her lips at the question.

“I’m not sure…It was supposed to, initially, only wear off when the two recipients kissed. But the potion was a lot stronger than I originally anticipated and hasn’t worked at all according to plan, so my assumption is that it likely wore off…” Sin bit back a laugh, clearing his throat to mask his amusement. Ja’far colored slightly, one of his hands lifting to cover his mouth as he coughed.

“Ah, yes…” Ja’far said, his voice strained. “It must have worn off.” Masrur cleared his throat, flaring his nostrils when Ja’far looked his way. Onyx eyes widened, his blush darkening. Sin’s muffled laughter choked suddenly, a wide grin splitting his face. Yamuriaha’s eyes flicked between Sin and Ja’far in confusion, her frown deepening. Pisti studied them both for a moment, her eyes widening slowly.

Was she reading this right?

Had this plan…actually worked?

“But anyways…” Ja’far said quickly, attempting to change the subject. “I really have some work that I must attend to, so I will speak to you all later.” He crouched down to gather the scrolls that had dropped earlier, only to have three sets of hands grab at them before he could even touch them. Looking up, he found Yamuriaha, Pisti and Sharrkan, all with his work in their arms.

“Please,” Yamuraiha said, bowing. “Let us take care of your work for today as punishment for what we have done.” Ja’far, sighing, stood, his eyes flicking to each general in turn.

“You aren’t going to let me say no, are you?” They shook their heads in unison, a stubborn edge to their expressions. “Alright. Fine. You win. Go on then.” They ran off, Ja’far watching them in disappointment. His shoulders slumped, his hands dropping loosely to his sides. “Well…It seems that I suddenly have nothing to do today.” Sin smirked, grabbing Ja’far’s wrist and pinning him up against the nearest wall.

“I think we can think of something for you to do…” he murmured, lowering his lips slowly onto Ja’far’s.

**MLMMLM**

Zobeida knocked gently at the door before her, hoping that it was the right place. She’d heard rumors about this room and what a very specific group of people did inside. Silence met her knock, bringing a frown to her painted lips. She had gotten it wrong after all, and after all of that research. She didn’t have time to make another attempt. Her boat was leaving tomorrow. Her head inclining, she turned, folding her hands in front of her as she moved to walk away.

The door creaked open, a blond girl peeking out into the hallway. “Can I help you?” she asked, watching the princess whirl back around to face the opening. A smile stretched across Zobeida’s face, her fingers automatically toying with the ring on her finger.

“Ah, yes. I believe you can. I know about what it is you do here and I would like to join,” she said, blue eyes fixed on the girl’s face. Brown eyes studied her carefully, narrowed in suspicion. Her lips were pulled to the side, a finger tapping against her arm.

“And what can you do for us?” Zobeida’s grin sharpened, pulling herself up tall.

“I have information. Information I think you’ll like about what happened these past few weeks.” The girl’s eyebrows lifted, indecision flickering in her gaze. “Perhaps you’d like me to confirm what you already know about the status of their relationship.” Pisti smiled suddenly, outstretching a hand for Zobeida to take.

“I think we have room for another member. Welcome to the SinJa Fanclub, Princess.”

–

_Everything that makes me whole_

_I give it all to you, my heart and soul_

_I’m yours~_

_-_ My Dearest – Supercell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has been quite a ride, one that i have enjoyed thoroughly. I hope you all enjoyed reading this story! I'll be back probably in a few weeks (It's finals week right now) with another story or two!
> 
> Thanks so much to all of you!


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